“Gladys”, eighty-seven, has had lung disease for many years. It did not impact her much with her activities of daily living. She was able to take brisk walks with her dogs; work in her garden and run her home without any concerns or symptoms. All that recently changed.
One week ago, she was hospitalized due to shortness of breath. Her lungs had filled with fluid. The treatment that was offered was extensive. Gladys had always been in charge of her life. It was then that she knew that going home was her best option.
Gladys coped with her wit; her sarcasm. Some may think it was her anger, but I saw her caring heart. Keep laughing Gladys.
SARCASTIC
She’ll turn eighty-eight next month.
She’s been independent and always active;
until one week ago when her lungs filled with fluid.
She’s been wheezing and short of breath since then.
Her doctors recommended excessive treatment,
but she said, “No. Not at my age.
Let me go home for rest and comfort”.
It was then an emergency hospice referral was made.
We met her daughter at the front door.
She walked us to the bedroom to see Mom.
“Tell me about your program but keep it short!”
Her sarcasm flowed through her delivery.
In one week, she lost her independence.
She was appropriately grieving that loss.
Anger can arise as one is trying to process
the reality of that deprivation.
I did not hear any anger but did loudly hear sarcasm.
Sarcastic humor hits my funny bone the hardest.
When I hear it, I immediately think, "My people”;
as sarcasm teases someone on their strengths.
I asked,” Is there anything you need from us?”
I heard, “I don’t know. I never died before”.
She made me laugh with her words; her expressions.
She knew it, but also knew some can be offended.
I walked into her bedroom as I was leaving
to remind her to call hospice at any time.
She knew she would get a smile as she said,
“I don’t have time anymore to be nice”.
Sarcastic.
My people.
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